Leave the ROOM: Inside THEA’s Queer-Inclusive Art Exhibition in Shinjuku

Tobias Waters

For people all over the world, the Internet can be a place of safety and discovery, where many “firsts” take place. Nevertheless, it can also be a place that we sometimes wish we could leave. This can be especially true for queer people, and particularly for queer Gen Z youth, who have grown up with the Internet being an intrinsic part of their lives.

On Saturday 17 and Sunday 18 October 2026, the art community THEA will be holding its third exhibition, ROOM, at WPÜ Shinjuku Gallery. The exhibition will feature physical installations on the theme of nostalgia and technology. Japan Gay Guide was lucky enough to speak to THEA’s director, Sun Terao, and Pascale Shears, an artist who will be presenting their work at the exhibition, who told us what we can expect and the importance of queer art in this moment.

ROOM Exhibition Details
October 17th (3pm – 9pm)

October 18th (Noon – 7pm)

WPÜ Shinjuku Gallery 2F
7-10-5
Nishishinjuku
新宿
160-0023

@wpushinjuku

¥1000 + 1 drink included (advance reservation)
¥1500 + 1 drink included (at door)
Payment Methods: Card, cash, PayPay

ROOM With a View

A patch reading “I Heart Butches” sewn onto demin
Etsy | CoolerIfYouDid

The upcoming exhibition is an artistic exploration of the interaction between “nostalgia” and “technology.” As Terao notes, these two may seem contradictory, but they are intrinsically tied to the artist and the observer by our relationship between time and the self. This is especially pronounced in the aftermath of the pandemic.

“I feel that COVID-19 really changed our perception of time,” Terao says. “The way we cope with our loss/lack of time is to lock ourselves in a small room where nothing can hurt us. We run to our memories of a childhood that only exist through rose-tinted glasses, and we run to the Internet to forget about our personal worries. We willingly remain stagnant.

“When observing our current cultural landscape, we saw this pattern of overwhelming longing and a desperate search for an escape from our ‘now.’ We use both the past and the future to blind ourselves to the present.”

In their work for this exhibition, Shears — whose work as an artist encompasses oil pastels, charcoal, digital, fiber, and literary modes of expression — is presenting I Love Butches. It is a mixed-media RISO animation of the removal of a patch with the work’s title from a piece of fabric — and, in reverse, its application. RISO animation is a hybrid technique where an animation is printed frame-by-frame, and then those frames, now bearing the small imperfections that come from printing on a Risograph machine, are reassembled digitally, merging the digital and physical. Shears’ animation will be played on a loop, either projected or displayed on a screen.

“The mixed media and RISO aspects of the project were directly inspired by the themes of nostalgia and technology,” Shears explains. “They provide a unique aesthetic that is hard to replicate and gives a slightly creepy feeling. The theme of the Internet comes through in the slightly cringey ‘i <3 butches’ patch. It’s a phrase that has been trending in lesbian spaces for decades — as part of funny bios, dating profiles, status updates, or just because.”

Terao says that, amid anxiety and even despair at the way that technology seems to be encroaching further into our lives, and in ways that many find negative (they specifically cite AI, surveillance tools, and parasocial relationships), things are not as hopeless as they may appear, and that fighting against hopelessness is worth it. This is a feeling especially pronounced among and necessary for the queer community.

“The online discourse surrounding the LGBTQIA+ community is messy in the sense that people are constantly arguing about the ‘validity’ of queer individuals, when nobody but the individual can decide that,” Terao says. “The Internet gives people equal opportunity for connection, while simultaneously granting equal opportunity for malice.”

“This exhibition is a direct response to that digital proposal for hostility. It’s a refusal to be cruel or to be complacent. It’s about allowing yourself the dignity to bloom. Queer online spaces are made wonderful by the efforts and power of communities and individuals that fight for them actively, while celebrating it just as much.”

What is THEA?

Tokyo is home to a thriving art scene, but THEA, an art community founded three years ago by a group of friends, distinguishes itself from other organizations in two important ways. The first is its inclusivity, and the second is its dedication to preserving and promoting the physicality of art.

Inclusivity and LGBTQ+ Art

Two people, their backs to the viewer, examine art at a THEA exhibition. On the left, the visitor is wearing a dark red headscarf. In the center, a smiling artist explains their work
THEA

While ROOM is not an exhibition explicitly focused on LGBTQ+ issues, its themes, as we have discussed, are highly resonant in the community. THEA, which was created because the founders perceived a barrier to entry for artists in Tokyo, has always prioritised the dissemination of artists who have been underserved in Tokyo — including LGBTQ+ artists. This included last year’s exhibition, SYMBOLS, which centered work exploring gender and sexual identity.

“Since the beginning, THEA has always been about putting all artists at the forefront. Queer artists have been suppressed for far too long, especially in Japan,” Terao explains. “Our responsibility as an organization is to leave the platform open for queer artists and support them unapologetically. The LGBTQIA+ community is one ultimately born from love. Our individual and collective lives are enriched that much more just by us sharing our experiences.”

Shears says that Japan’s capital is an environment where art and artists flourish. Nevertheless, representation is especially vital when we consider the added depths and nuances that emerge when race intersects with queer identity.

“Being a queer artist in Tokyo is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I never imagined I’d be so lucky to experience,” they say. “The art scene in Tokyo is one of the largest in the world. A new art form is only a workshop away, and a new scene can be found simply by exploring one of Tokyo’s million tiny streets.

“And what inspires me as an artist — especially as a black queer artist — is visibility. In a society where my intersectionality always affects me, visibility is how I make sure my identity and my humanity cannot be forgotten or erased.”

The Tangible Vitality of Art

Several copies of the second volume of THEA’s Zine lie on top of one another. The cover shows a colorful piece of abstract art
THEA

Perhaps one of the most intriguing aspects of ROOM’s exploration of what technology and the Internet can do to people is how neatly it interacts with THEA’s focus on the importance of art in the physical world.

“The material weight of something like a Zine or the noise of an event automatically enhances the emotional weight each person feels when interacting with it,” Terao says. “Holding something in your hand or seeing the mannerisms of artists that made the piece you are seeing adds an entirely new layer of context. It’s direct proof that we went through the ‘trouble’ of making our art real. We feel that just that added information can completely change the meaning of the things we produce.”

The exhibitions are photographically reproduced as Zines, both preserving the work of the artists permanently while retaining, to an extent, the tactile reality of the work. As wonderful as it is to hold a Zine, though, visiting the exhibitions themselves is an incomparable experience.

“Attending a THEA exhibition feels like stepping into another world, thanks to the large range of artists with their own personalities and creativity through various mediums,” Shears tells us. “As a visitor, it can feel a bit overwhelming, especially if it’s your first time visiting. But if you choose to push past that initial fear, you’ll unlock new and amazing ways not just to see the world but to express yourself. You may see something that resonates with you in a way nothing ever has before.

“Being an exhibiting artist at a THEA exhibition and being included in a collection of such talented and creative artists is such an honor. I feel so inspired by other artists discovering something new about themselves or the ways they can express themselves.”

“We aim for all our events to be very casual and intimate,” Terao adds. “Our goal with THEA is not to make a networking event, but to create a community where people can create new connections that last beyond the event space. For artists, that means us working in collaboration with each other the months leading up to the event, and day-of prep at the venue.

“For visitors, that means an open space where everybody is encouraged to interact with curiosity. Artists are encouraged to be present for most of the day to allow visitors to converse and ask questions they have about pieces. A lot of the visitors that we’ve had in past exhibitions come from our exhibitors’ invitation, so I think the vibe automatically transforms into something relaxed and cozy.”

If you’ve been inspired by Shears as an artist, or THEA as an organization, then Terao is keen to hear from you.

“Everything that we plan always has people beyond our own team participating in mind. We’re actively looking out for new artists to work with, and we’d love to hear from any artists reading this!”

Readers can get a ¥500 discount for the ROOM exhibit by reserving their tickets in advance using this Google form. Those looking to keep up with THEA’s activities can follow them on their Instagram account, @____thea.____. You can also find digital editions of previous Zines for free 这里.

托比亚斯从事编辑和作家工作已有十余年,最初在伦敦一家法律出版社工作,2019 年移居东京。 搬到日本首都后,他撰写或编辑了各种主题的文章,包括汽车、医药、电子游戏、经济、葡萄酒、教育和旅游。他甚至评论了日本推出的首款 CBD 啤酒! 业余时间,他喜欢看电影、玩电子游戏、唱卡拉 OK 和去当地的温泉。他最喜欢的神奇宝贝是神狐,最喜欢的食物是咖喱。他从不谈论 2008 年金融危机如何影响了现代世界的一切。
0 评论
0 评论